


Turn Your Shattered Dreams Into Rhapsodies

by evilqueenofgallifrey (MayFairy)



Series: The Only Friend That I Have [1]
Category: Class (TV 2016), Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F, Missy calls her Andy and she (mostly) hates it, and by that I mean girlfriends, they're two murderous snarky space ladies of course they're friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 10:31:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8368927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayFairy/pseuds/evilqueenofgallifrey
Summary: OR: How two alien murderesses traumatised a classroom full of teenagers (and the third alien especially). "It's good to see you didn't stretch any neurons coming up with your alias. You know, you could at least go for an anagram-""I am not taking advice on subtlety from someone called the Mistress."Miss Quill and the Mistress were friends back before the conflict on Rhodia came to anything. But Miss Quill is less than pleased to have Missy turn up again, in her classroom of all places. Of course, as much as she hates to admit it, she's lonely and Missy is the only person she can actually stand. At least making Charlie uncomfortable with details of her sex life is a guaranteed way to improve Miss Quill's day.





	

**Author's Note:**

> These two women have ruined my life, so naturally I had to write this. Not for the first time, how gay I am is literally affecting my academics because I'm meant to be writing an essay. Oh well. 
> 
> Title from 'Palace' by Hayley Kiyoko.
> 
> EDIT: I've made a few edits since ep 3 revealed Quill's real name and a few other things.

It's two days after the demise of the tattooed gym teacher that the final class of the day - their one with Miss Quill - is interrupted.

"Is there really much point teaching them anything to do with that equation when it's only going to get disproved a couple of centuries down the line anyway?" A voice from the doorway asks mildly.

Everyone in the class looks up to see a woman about a decade older than Miss Quill, dressed in clothing which would have been outdated a century before. She's smirking and lounging against the frame of the door as if there isn't a reason in the world she shouldn't be there.

"Why is Mary Poppins in our classroom?" April asks.

" _Evil_ Mary Poppins, more like," Tanya says. They politely pretend to not notice Charlie immediately whipping out his phone under his desk to Google who Mary Poppins is.

They all, somehow, have forgotten about Miss Quill. But not for long.

"You have some _nerve_ , showing up here," Quill says, her body rigid and eyes furious as she marches over to the door, "If I hadn't listened to you, I might never have had to the nerve to attack and then my life wouldn't the complete pile of shit it is now. Do you have _any_ idea how stupid these children are?"

"Thanks," Ram exclaims. "You know we can still hear you."

"Hang on, you're that weirdo who kept interrupting Miss Oswald's English classes last year and making her turn that really wicked shade of red," Tanya realises out loud.

The woman in the doorway briefly tears her attention away from Miss Quill to smirk at Tanya. "Oh yes. Miss Oswald and I had such a... _unique_ working relationship. It's so _very_ tedious that she had to go and get herself killed like that. Still, she never was very bright."

"Hey, she was our teacher!" April protests. "And she's dead, you can't talk about her like that."

"Shut up and get back to work," Miss Quill tells them all before turning back to the stranger. Of course none of the teenagers actually _do_ go back to their work - not even April, Charlie, or Tanya. What is happening between the two adults is _far_ too interesting.

"I always did like it when you used that voice," the brunette practically purrs, "All authoritative. But then, it's sort of your normal voice, isn't it? That's why I like you-"

"Give me one good reason not to skin you alive," Miss Quill seethes.

After what April has seen of Miss Quill outside of school hours, she can tell it's not an empty or exaggerated threat. Behind her, Ram shifts uncomfortably. It's a bit too soon after the dragon incident for this kind of talk.

The woman in the door doesn't so much as blink at the threat, however.

"Well, it would make a terrible mess and I know how you hate to clean up," she says mildly, examining one of her nails, "Not to mention, dear, we both know you would have done exactly what you did with or without my encouragement."

"You left when I needed you the most!"

"I don't do hand-holding," she says coldly, arching an eyebrow. To the teenagers' surprise, Miss Quill flushes. "Figuratively speaking, anyway. You're a big capable girl, poppet, that's why we had so much fun together."

There's an odd heat in the way she regards Miss Quill that makes the rest of the room watch with bated breath.

"You know what else might be fun? Taking the breathplay to a whole new level," Miss Quill snarls, making Ram choke on the gulp of water he'd just taken from his bottle, and the rest of the room gapes with disbelief.

The brunette stranger just grins. "Sounds like fun."

"You're impossible."

"Coffee?"

Miss Quill blinks and then scowls. "Go to hell, and get out of my classroom." She turns around and sits back at her desk.

"Deja vu," the other woman mutters under her breath, before smiling, "You know, I'd forgotten how prickly you are. More so now, being stranded here, which isn't much of a surprise. Though of course, more literally, a lot _less_ prickly than before, which is a shame really, I was quite a fan-"

"Get out, Missy!" Miss Quill shouts.

"Look, I feel like I should warn you that I'm _quite_ determined on the matter of this little reunion," Missy says with a melodramatic sigh, "I really will stand here all day if I have to. So, let me repeat the question. Coffee?"

Miss Quill narrows her eyes, and then her shoulders sink. "Vodka."

Missy beams. "Lovely. Text the time and place, so long as it's tonight." She turns to the class of bewildered teenagers. "Don't worry, you funny little things, I'll have her in a much better mood tomorrow." She gives them an exaggerated wink.

"Missy, out," Miss Quill says again, but now with a kind of resignation more than anything else.

"You know, if you didn't make it so obvious you needed to get laid, I wouldn't have to make it so obvious that I'm going to do something about it," Missy says sweetly.

April feels quite sick and can see from a glance around her that she isn't the only one. No one looks more nauseous than Charlie, though.

Miss Quill doesn't look up from her iPad. "You'd better make as good a use of your mouth tonight as you are right now, Missy, or I'm going to revisit that wonderfully appealing strangulation idea."

"Promises, promises," Missy says, before winking at the class again and making an exit with a dramatic heel turn and a swish of her skirts.

"I feel immensely uncomfortable and a bit ill," Charlie announces to nobody in particular. When April turns around, he is noticeably green.

"It's not just you," Tanya says at the same time Ram says something similar.

Slowly, but surely, the entire class ends up staring at Miss Quill. It takes her about ten seconds to notice and she looks up only to immediately roll her eyes.

"If you haven't yet accepted the fact that adults have active sex lives, that isn't my problem," she says flatly, before returning to her iPad, "Now get back to work. Anyone not finished can complete the equation in detention."

Miss Quill's overshared personal life, while intriguing and not half disgusting, isn't worth getting detention, so they all get back to work.

The physics is a decent distraction from the unfortunately overactive imaginations of top achievers. It'll be a wonder if any of them can look her in the eye again.

* * *

Miss Quill gets home to find Charlie waiting for her at the dining table.

"Who is she?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. "You said she was part of the reason you attacked, so you knew her on Rhodia, before-"

"Before I became your slave, yes," she says bitterly, moving to make herself a strong coffee. "Her name is the Mistress, she's a Time Lady from Gallifrey. Friends and enemies with the Doctor, though of course that meant very little to me at the time."

"Is she dangerous?"

Quill smirks at him. "Extremely."

He pales, and swallows. "Then you'll do everything in your ability to keep her out of trouble." 

"Whatever you say, _Master_ ," she says reluctantly, with enough venom in her voice to make him flinch at the word they both despise. Having to do as he says makes her want to break furniture and pummel his face in. He's not noticed she's already had to replace one of the dining chairs. 

"Well, that's settled then," Charlie says, getting up and slinging his bag back onto his back, "I'm going to April's for the night. Please don't have sex on the dining table or in the kitchen. You've made me nauseous enough without having to worry about food hygiene."

"Well, that's limiting," a familiar Scottish voice says from the other end of the room, and they whip around to see Missy standing in the doorway opposite the kitchen.

Quill frowns. "You're early."

"And I'm leaving." Charlies tries to head for the door, only for Missy to move quickly enough to dart out her arm and seize him by the wrist. By his wince and Quill's personal experience, she has to guess the nails are being unforgiving.

"Not until you two explain exactly what the hell _this-_ " Missy gestures between the Rhodian and the Quill, "Is. Because you're that little prince she was planning on killing. How the _hell_ did you two end up cohabitating? On _this_ pathetic rock?"

"I failed, got the _arn_ , then every other living soul on the planet was slaughtered by the Shadowkin while we were rescued by your - what did you call him? - best enemy," Quill tells her sourly as she fetches the vodka from the cupboard. 

Missy blinks. "Huh. Sounds like quite the party, I should have stuck around."

"Yes, I could have used you as a humanoid shield," Quill retorts.

Missy grins, eyes glinting. "I love it when you talk violence to me, Andy." While Quill glares at her for using the ridiculous nickname that  _maybe_ she doesn't actually hate as much as she claims, Charlie's eyebrows skyrocket. 

" _Andy_?" He asks, sounding like he's torn between sheer disbelief and the desire to laugh. 

"If he starts calling me anything but Miss Quill because of you, Missy, I will pluck those beautiful eyeballs from your skull and feed them to you, Quill tells Missy, pointing the bottle of vodka at her. 

"You always say the sweetest things," Missy says, smiling at her and fluttering her eyelashes for good measure. At least until the derision surfaces. "Oh, and it's good to see you didn't stretch any neurons coming up with youralias. You know, you could at least go for an anagram-"

"I am _not_ taking advice on subtlety from someone called  _the Mistress_."

"I'm going now," Charlie announces, and is met with no opposition this time. Neither woman responds or so much as glances at him on his way out.

"His face is irritating," Missy remarks the moment he's gone, and Quill snorts with agreement.

"Try living with it. I have to _protect_ him, and _serve_ him. It's humiliating."

"Mm, you've really been collared, haven't you?" Missy lifts her eyebrows. "I can't tell if it's horrific, hilarious, or a tiny bit sexy."

Quill glares as she sets the glasses down next to the bottle and pours them both a healthy measure before downing hers in one gulp. "You like me because I was fearless and ruthless and answered to no one," she says, bitterly, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, "Why would you still want to be around me, if not just to laugh at what I've been reduced to?"

Missy comes into the kitchen to stand next to her, and brushes her hair behind her ear with uncharacteristic gentleness. "My _dear_ little terrorist-"

"Freedom fighter," Quill snaps.

Missy snorts. "Semantics. Anyway. I liked you for _you_. For that attitude and deadpan humour. Sure, the body count was a turn on, but so's this new look of yours."

Quill lifts an eyebrow. "I thought you liked the spikes?"

"Well, yes, they were rather lovely, but did make certain things a little trickier to orchestrate," Missy murmurs, smiling slightly, "I think you'll find this body a tad more _compatible_ with mine."

Her hand slips up Quill's skirt, sliding across the skin that is so _smooth_ in a way that up until now Quill has found downright unsettling, but now she begins to see the appeal if touch can feel like _this_.

When the hand tries to go higher, though, she has to intervene.

"Charlie said not to have sex in the kitchen," she says reluctantly, "And his reasons were...fairly valid."

Missy rolls her eyes. "Fine. But he didn't say anything about the corridor."

Before they can take a single step, Missy lifts her other hand to turn Quill's face towards her so that she can kiss her, in that way that is somehow soft and hard at the same time, in that way that is so uniquely _Missy_.

It's nice, and oddly comforting, but Quill has never been one for any kind of softness. She deepens the kiss, pushing her tongue against Missy's lips and using her hands to yank the Time Lady in by the waist.

They stumble backward out of the kitchen (the vodka forgotten) and through the dining room, bumping into several chairs and the table before making it into the corridor. Logically, Quill knows it wouldn't be hard to just go that little bit further and make it to her bedroom, but Missy has already pressed her against the wall and started yanking up her pencil skirt.

Two can play at that game, of course, and Quill ensures that Missy's jacket hits the floor within seconds. She knows not to touch the brooch, though, and lets Missy tuck it into the pocket of the jacket when the Time Lady discards her shirt and skirt.

Missy is left in the boots, corset, stockings, and - god have mercy - the damned garter belt. Even though Quill is technically wearing more clothes, she feels more vulnerable because Missy still somehow seems completely put together while Quill's shirt is gaping wide to expose a lacy bra and her skirt is around her hips and hiding nothing at all.

They're often not patient enough for full nudity and Quill knows immediately that this is one of those times. When they kiss again it's a mutual fight for power, two sheer forces of nature who never give in to another living soul when they have any choice.

It's messy and full of teeth and tongues and biting and scratching and _souls, she has missed this_. She had known she was lonely and maybe someone other than Missy could have fixed that but right here and now it's impossible to imagine anyone else satisfying her thirst for companionship.

Missy's fingers and mouth know exactly how to touch her and it's _glorious_. Quill loses count of the number of deities she accidentally ends up worshipping there in that dim little corridor, and she doesn't believe in more than two of them anyway.

Quill had almost forgotten how absurd the noises Missy makes during sex are, but what would be an instant and complete turn off in anyone else is unspeakably arousing coming from the self-proclaimed Queen of Evil.

It feels so good to be able to be rough with somebody without any kind of fear of the consequences, and to have that person be just as rough back. To know limits and push them but never break them.

They never stop wrestling each other for control. Sex between them is violent and erratic and always has been. They eventually make it to Quill's bed, which helps, but even then Missy's teeth are intent on marking every bit of pale skin they can find.

Quill bites Missy's lips hard enough to draw blood and savours the salty taste on her tongue. Missy's hand between her legs presses harder in retaliation and makes her keen from overstimulation because it's been too long and it's too much.

Finally, after _hours_ , they're both too exhausted to continue. Missy curls into Quill's side - yes, the Queen of Evil is a cuddler, but Quill adamantly is not and automatically goes rigid at the foreign sensation. 

"Good catch-up," Missy mumbles against Quill's breast, before falling asleep.

Quill takes a second to savour the last moment she might have in a while with someone who actually understands her (as well as anyone possibly can). Then she rolls over, dislodging Missy so that she can sleep without someone hanging off her. 

* * *

Missy leaves in the morning, but not without saying goodbye, and Quill is treated to the show of the Time Lady redressing, which really is a show with all the layers taken into account.

There's the small problem of half the clothing and clasps being torn, but Missy seems as amused as she is annoyed by it. She departs with a kiss to Quill's cheek and a promise to pop back in soon. It's like a weight off Quill's chest, knowing that amongst the awful teenagers and humans and space-time tear bullshit she is going to have a real friendship to keep her sane.

When Charlie finds a broken garter in the hallway later that day, Quill relishes his disgust and takes great joy in telling him that Missy is likely to pay more visits.

If Missy's presence makes him uncomfortable, that's the best news she's had all week.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, please let me know what you thought! There will definitely be more fic for these two coming.


End file.
